Chapter Text
“Giant worms. Really? That’s my life now? Fist fighting giant worms in the middle of the fucking forest?” Clint leaned his head on the trunks of one of the giant sequoias that was thankfully not drenched in giant worm guts, chugging a water bottle.
“You wouldn’t have had to fist fight them if you had packed more arrows,” Nat pointed out.
“Oh, nice, pick on the arrow guy because he is burdened by the disadvantage of his only weapon being limited to the amount of arrows he can carry in his quiver,” Clint retorted.
“You’d fit more in your quiver if you just let me make you nanobot arrows. Hit your target and then it’ll boomerang right back in,” Tony said, leaning on a tree, armored arms crossed.
“They don’t feel right,” Clint said, face scrunching in disgust.
“I can make them feel right,” Tony scoffed.
“They won’t feel right.”
“You haven’t even felt them yet!” Tony exclaimed, hands flying up.
“And I know that they won’t feel right!”
“Hey!” Steve interjected, voice firm. “We’ve had a very long day, so let’s just head back, alright?”
“Can we at least get some food? I didn’t have breakfast, and that was… a mistake,” Bucky said.
“I could definitely use some fuel for the ride back,” Sam added.
“I’m picking up heat signatures about a mile west,” Tony said.
“A mile ?” Clint whined.
“Suck it up, Barton. Get your steps in,” Natasha said.
“I get plenty of steps. I get so many steps. I have gotten more than enough steps today while I was fist fighting giant worms . Seriously, can we please talk about that? Can we please talk about the sixty foot worms? Because I feel like we are being very lax about the fact that sixty foot worms just exist.”
“We’re over it,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Get over it.”
“Ge- just get over it? I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do that, pal.”
“Can we start walking to these heat signatures before my stomach implodes in starvation?” Sam asked.
“That’s not how stomachs work,” Bruce said.
“Oh did you learn that when you got one of your seven PhDs?” Sam asked dryly.
“You guys are really not gonna let me live that down, huh?” Bruce said, head bowing in embarrassment.
“Seven is just overkill,” Tony said. “Seven isn’t a feat, it’s a sign of poor planning and indecisiveness.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce mumbled.
After a long ten minute walk of tired bickering and an awkward bathroom break ( you really couldn’t wait five minutes, Clint? ), they approached a small town, which was a confusing mix of abandoned old country western film ghost town and bustling amish village.
“What is this place?” Sam muttered.
“I think that’s a restaurant over there?” Steve said. “You think they take walk-ins?”
“I think that they’ve never taken walk-ins from anyone who doesn’t live in this Brigadoon,” Tony replied.
“Well today’ll be a first,” Steve said, a bright but strained smile on his face.
They entered the restaurant, walls painted a solid cream and tables and chairs a dark wood. Everyone froze, eyes wide as they stared at the Avengers.
“Y’think they’re fans?” Bucky asked.
An old woman in a frilly apron approached them, giving them all a big plastic smile. “Hello. How may I help you?”
“We were wondering if we could get a table? We just got back from a very taxing mission and would love to get some food from your lovely establishment,” Steve said, switching on his Captain America charm.
“Of course,” she said. “Let us set you up a table.” She turned to her coworkers and gave them a quick order in Irish.
The two workers nodded curtly, rushing to push the tables together, rearranging the chairs for them.
As the team took seats, they all let out a collective sigh, their sore muscles finally getting a break.
“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get up from this chair ever again. I think I live here now,” Clint said, eyes closed as he slumped in his chair.
“So, what’ve they got on the menu?” Tony asked.
“Lots of comfort food. Couple stews, couple casseroles. Doesn’t say what’s in them though,” Sam said.
“I’m guessing everyone here is a regular and they know the usuals,” Tony stated. His gaze drifted to Steve whose brows were furrowed in deep thought. “Somethin’ on your mind, Cap?”
Steve shushed him silently. His brows furrowed even deeper. He turned on his comm, motioning for everyone else to do the same. “Read your menus, so not to draw attention.” They did so. “I’ve been listening to the workers. They’re speaking my ma’s mother language, and what they’re saying…” He stopped. “They said to ‘initiate full blackout’ and ‘do not let the variables escape.’ I think there might be a hostage situation.”
The Avengers went silent.
“Hostiles are armed,” Steve told them. “We need to act.”
Tony stood up from the table, the others staring at him, trying not to look alarmed. He approached them with perfected feigned casual confidence. “Do you guys have a bathroom?”
The woman looked up, unsettlingly calm. “I am sorry. We do not have one.”
“Then may I go into the kitchen, please? I’m a bit of a germaphobe and need to wash my hands before I eat.”
“We can’t let you do that,” she said firmly.
“Why not? Really, it’ll be just a second. I won’t mess with the food or anything,” he said, holding up his hands.
“Restricted access.”
“I’ll be quick. Really. I’ll even tip you extra for the trouble.”
“We really can’t let you do that.”
Turning to the others, Tony bobbed his head to the kitchen, nodding slightly.
The team stood up from their seats. Everyone in the restaurant shot up and charged towards them.
Tony put up his helmet, switching his blasters to stun, and took out as many of the attackers as he could. The rest, less Bruce, were fighting hand to hand, aiming to incapacitate but not do major damage.
Steve and Bucky headed to the kitchen, scouring the area for possible locations of the hostages.
An array of knives was thrown at the two. Steve, barely dodging them, got a thin slice on his cheek as he ducked behind his shield. Bucky caught them midair, ready to fight.
Then ensued a swift and brutal dance, the chefs fighting with intense rage but not much technique. The ferocity of their combat made it clear that whatever they were hiding was something they would lay down their lives to prevent the Avengers from discovering.
A few well-placed hits saw them all crumpling on the speckled tiles in quick succession, out cold.
Bucky and Steve searched the kitchen, scanning for a door or a hidden door when they both locked their gaze on the pantry. Although locked and guarded to suspicious excess, the pantry revealed nothing but shelves of food at first. However, the last shelf pulled out and revealed a dimly lit cement spiral staircase.
“Uh, guys,” Steve said into his comms. “I think I found what we’re lookin’ for.”
“The current hostiles are fleeing out the door,” Natasha said. “Clint and I are gonna follow. The rest will catch up with you two.”
“Copy,” Steve replied. “Let’s go.”
Before they could make it down the first corner, rapid footsteps confronted them, shooting at the two supersoldiers.
“Get behind me!” Steve exclaimed, ducking behind his shield and pushing Bucky behind him.
Bucky ricocheted his shots off of the walls, hitting all of his targets perfectly in the stomach.
“They really don’t want us to get down here!” Steve stated, heaving exhausted breaths.
“There’s a hidden staircase in what we thought were civilian houses. I think every building in this town has one,” Clint said.
“What is under this town?” Sam muttered.
Finally getting to the bottom of the stairs, Bucky and Steve were greeted by a hallway of very angry people, armed and ready to fight.
“Could really use some backup!” Bucky said.
“Right behind you,” Tony said, flying in front of them and sending a shock to the other side of the hallway which knocked the crowd of enraged fighters unconscious.
“That won’t hold them forever. We’ve got about ten minutes to get in and out,” Tony said.
“We’ve gotta split up. Scope out the place. Find the potential hostages,” Steve instructed.
Taking their usual positions, they broke up, ready to search the cement halls.
The facility was industrial and damp, dull fluorescent light barely illuminating the long expansive halls.
“I seem to have found some sort of physical training facility. Recently used,” Steve said.
“I found a medical facility that is much too advanced for where it resides,” Tony said.
“I think I found the torture room. I recognize the devices,” Natasha said.
“Lots of cells,” Clint said. “But no inhabitants.”
“I think I found some sort of classroom?” Sam said.
“I found a gun range,” Bucky said. “And a lot of guns.”
“Reconvene at the east end. I think I’ve found something,” Sam said.
The team hurried to Sam, running cautiously through the dark halls, and freezing at the sight.
At the end of the hall was a giant door made of thick metal.
“Well that’s not ominous at all,” Clint said.
“There’s a heat signature in there,” Tony said.
The team went silent.
“We’ve gotta get in there, right?” Sam asked.
“Of course we are.” Tony pushed to the front, examining the locks. “These are absolutely archaic. There’s not even any biometric scanning.” He unlatched and unlocked the various knobs and sliders until there was a loud and final ‘click.’
“We have no idea what’s gonna be in here, so be prepared for anything,” Steve said.
The team readied their weapons, preparing to fight as Tony pushed open the door.
The silence was thick and heavy as they all caught sight of what resided behind the door.
A frail yet muscular kid cowered in the corner of the room, shivering in just his boxers, chains attached to his wrists and ankles. However, he wasn’t just in the corner. He was in the corner on the ceiling.
“Hey. It’s alright. We aren’t gonna hurt you,” Steve said softly.
The kid just clutched tighter to the ceiling, curling into a tighter ball.
“What’s your name?” Steve asked.
He didn’t respond.
“Do you… do you not know?”
He shook his head slightly.
“How old are you?”
He didn’t respond.
“Okay. Okay, that’s… that’s alright. We… we’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We’ll get you somewhere safe,” Steve continued. “We’ll make sure no one hurts you ever again. But you gotta trust us, okay? Do you understand?”
He cocked his head to the side, staring at him with confusion, fear still evident in his expression.
“Uh, guys? Not to freak you out or anything, but I’m pretty sure I hear ticking underneath the floors, and I don’t think that’s a good sign,” Bucky said.
“I hear it too,” Steve said softly. “Hey, we gotta get you out of here. Can you please come with us?”
“He’s not gonna willingly come with us,” Natasha told him.
“We can’t just leave him here!” Steve snapped. “Please, just let us help you.”
“We’re lookin’ at three minutes top, Cap,” Tony said nervously.
“We’re gonna have to take him whether he likes it or not,” Natasha said.
“We can’t just force him to—”
“It’s rather that or leave him here,” she interjected harshly.
Steve looked between her and the kid, conflicted. “Help me get him out of these chains.”
He, Bucky, and Tony rushed, cutting them in half to detach him from the wall.
“You have to come with us,” Steve said.
The kid stared at him, giving him no response, fiddling with the chains still hanging from his wrists.
“Hey,” Natasha cut in, voice stern and impatient. “You need to get down from there and come with us right now. We don’t have the time to sit here and convince you. You have to trust us.”
Comprehension sparked in his eyes, and rigidly dropped from the ceiling, standing at attention in front of the group, back straight and palms out.
“Follow us,” Steve said. “Stay in the middle. We don’t want you getting hurt.”
He nodded, robotically bringing himself to the center of the group.
“Avengers. Let’s go.”
The team ran through the halls, sprinting up the spiral stairs.
When they got to the surface, they gawked in shock at the sight of the bodies littering the grounds. The kid’s breathing shook, rapid and hollow.
“I’m getting traces of cyanide. They all took L-pills,” Tony stated solemnly.
They cursed under their breath.
The ground beneath them rumbled.
“This whole town is gonna collapse,” Bruce said.
“We better run,” Sam added. “C’mon,” Sam said softly to the kid. “Let’s go.”
They ran as far as they could, struggling to navigate with just the light of the stars and moon, and barely making it out of the blast radius as the whole town collapsed in on itself, engulfing into the ground.
The kid stared at the hole blankly, eyes watery.
“Let’s call the quinjet over here. I don’t think a two mile walk would be good for any of us,” Natasha said.
As the inevitable tense and heavy silence settled once more, all eyes fell onto the kid who wrapped his (still chained) arms around his torso, shivering and trembling.
Tony exited his armor, and pulled off his slightly grease stained AC/DC t-shirt, handing it to the kid. “Here. Put this on. It isn’t much, but I figure you need it more than me.”
The kid stared at the t-shirt.
“Can you not put it on? With the chains?”
The kid, conflicted, pulled the shirt on, threading the chains through the sleeve holes.
In a grueling two minutes, the quinjet landed in the large field of grass.
The kid gaped at the aircraft.
“It’s safe. I promise. It’s gonna take us somewhere safe. Follow us.”
His eyes glazed over, giving a nod and following with calculated steps.
“Here, put these on. It’ll keep you warm,” Sam said, handing him a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.
Once again, he put on the clothes with hesitance, threading the chains through the sleeves.
“We should get those off of you, huh? Bet they’re uncomfortable,” he said.
“Currently functional. Unhindered and ready for any and all combat and training despite the current inconveniences,” he said, his voice high and light but spoken with weight and certainty that was an eerie contrast.
The Avengers were clearly made uncomfortable by the response.
“So, I was hoping I could ask you some questions. Nothing hard. Just want to get to know you a little more,” Steve said softly.
The kid stared at him.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“I will answer if you want me to answer.” He flinched, holding his palms up and out in front of him.
“We would like you to answer, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Steve assured.
“I will answer your questions,” he said with tentative confidence.
“Do you have a name?” Steve asked.
The kid didn’t respond, face souring.
“Uh, sorry, what should we call you?”
“DV.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Stevie?”
“No. DV,” he said, enunciating it clearer.
“And what does that stand for?” he asked.
“Dependent Variable.”
The Avengers shared looks of confusion and worry.
“How old are you?” Steve asked.
“I do not understand,” he said, growing distressed.
“Like your age.”
This only seemed to distress him further. “I do not understand.”
“That’s okay. That’s alright. You don’t have to answer that one.”
He relaxed.
“Who were those people?” Natasha asked.
“My owners,” he responded.
“Do you know who they worked for?”
“The Greater Good.”
She paused. “Why did they take you?’
“To prepare me for The Reckoning.”
“What is The Reckoning?” she asked, intrigued but cautious.
“The detriment to all humanity only to be conquested by artificial perfection.”
“What is this artificial perfection?” Tony butted in.
“Me.”
This answer gave them all an unsettling shiver in their spines.
“Did they do something to you to make you this artificial perfection?” Natasha asked.
“DV has been enhanced physically and mentally to prepare for The Reckoning. Enhancement injections are and have been admitted with a biweekly frequency, some varying alpha tests and some improved and adjusted supplements.”
“What did they enhance?” Tony asked with morbid curiosity.
“Injections have enhanced DV’s hearing, sight, strength, agility, reflexes, stamina, speed, balance, and healing.”
“And the sticking thing. Is that an enhancement too?” Clint asked.
“Correct,” he said with a nod.
“Did they hurt you?” Steve asked gently.
“Of course,” he replied with confusion, clearly unsure why they didn’t know what he seemed to think was the obvious answer. “Pain ensures compliance and obedience.”
Bucky stood up abruptly and excused himself to the front of the quinjet.
“I’m gonna go with him,” Steve stated quietly, following him with urgency.
“Are you hungry?” Sam asked.
He looked to them with a questioning gaze, trying to analyze their expressions as if the question were a test. “I have not earned my food.”
“You don’t have to—” Clint started.
“You answered our questions. That means you’ve earned your food,” Natasha said, giving Clint a pointed look.
The kid relaxed, his shoulders untensing but his back still straight.
“You allergic to nuts?” Sam asked.
“Dependent Variables are incapable of human imperfection such as allergies.”
Sam paused and gave an awkward bob of the head. “Right. Here ya go. It’s a protein bar.”
“Thank you,” he said. He nibbled at the protein bar, but went rigid in confusion. The chocolate coated peanut butter stuck to his molars. “This is… not protein.”
“Yeah it is. It’s got peanuts. That’s protein,” Clint said.
“This is not protein,” he repeated, clearly fearful of their reaction. “This is nutritionally insufficient. The Dependent Variable will not be nourished adequately.”
Tony snapped his finger in realization. “He’s got enhanced metabolism. I can’t imagine what crazy science abominations of super food they gave him, and we just gave him a fucking glorified chocolate chip cookie. He’s clearly overwhelmed by the taste.”
The kid nodded meekly.
“How about some water and some crackers to hold you over ‘til we get back to the compound?” Tony suggested, handing him a pack of saltines and a big water bottle.
“Thank you,” he said again, his voice strong and truly grateful. He munched on the crackers slowly, savoring each bite.
“I know that this counts as Avengers’ business, but I don’t think harboring an enhanced child is really Avengers jurisdiction,” Clint said.
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“I mean, we can’t just randomly take and house a child, right? That’s not just a thing we can do,” Clint replied.
“I’ve got a lawyer. I think these circumstances can grant temporary guardianship, considering. Though, someone’s gonna have to take the plate as official guardian, since I”m pretty sure six romantically uninvolved people, well except for the two freezer burnt popsicles over there, can’t get joint guardianship. Plus, it would get too much attention. People watch what Tony Stark does, let alone the whole Avengers team.”
“I’ll get guardianship,” Sam announced. “I’m still a civilian under the eyes of the public, and I’m qualified.”
“And it’s not like it’s gonna fall on you,” Tony said. “We’re all pitchin’ in doin’ the guardianship thing because though this isn’t Avengers jurisdiction, this is Avengers business, and I’ll be damned if we don't do everything we can to help this kid.”